


Hush Hush

by Val_Creative



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Family Secrets, M/M, Romance, Shower Sex, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A husky whisper sounds in Barry's ears. "…Do I get a prize for being an outstanding student to your mentorship?" /BarryxWally. Incest. Smut. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush Hush

{~}

 

Barry's thumbs catch the raspberry-red waistband of the briefs, hooking. He says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.

Those thumbs drag roughly down the sides of Wally's thighs, down to his kneecaps and press, waiting, patient, as his nephew toes off the material, and slide back up. Barry's warm fingers— _a speedster's warmth, Flash's warmth_ —spread and fan. Fingers skim over the white, freckle-scattered skin that Barry knows no one has ever explored. He clenches Wally's ass in his hands, separating the cheeks slightly, and Wally softly moans above, his tip of his penis twitching _wet_ against Barry's cleft chin.

He's adorable. The hollow of Wally's back through his shirt flattens to the wood, newel post of the guest room's bed. Barry's lips close around him, saliva gathering and hot and slick and he's _sucking_ , and Wally _thrusts_ shallow in his throat. His adorable, impatient nephew. Even alone in the house, Wally knows better when they are like this than to use names—alias or otherwise. Not that Barry would for a moment chance this with Iris present somewhere in another room.

She is an investigative reporter for a reason. Nothing got past her when it came to him, not since they had been dating, not since they had been engaged.

But this—if he had managed to have _this_ slip past her for several months— either something had gone very, very wrong. Or very, very _right_.

Wally moans again, head tilted away from view, his Adam's apple trembling as he swallows hard. Barry stops sucking, letting go to instead roll both of his dry palms over the shined, _moistened_ foreskin.

"What do you want, kid?" he breathes, cracking a smile. He hopes it is comforting to Wally's eyes. At no point in time does Barry want him to feel anxious. Like the seventeen-year-old is obligated to do anything with him. Not that Barry thinks that Wally assumes this. He may have in the past. The awkwardness of their first time a month back may have had been a result of that anxiety. Wally's hands remove themselves from grasping around the bed-frame for dear life and sculpt themselves around threads of blond hair. "…Is the shower alright this time?" Barry adds, standing.

A nod of confirmation from Wally. Such a willing partner. Barry helps him remove the button-up, sliding Wally's muscled arms free, and kisses a crown of red hair before starting to undo his belt and adding his clothes to Wally's crumpled pile on the carpet.

 

{~}

 

Iris was the traditional kind of lover. Missionary, on a bed. Plenty of cuddling. Talking about how their days had gone after making love. Barry wouldn't ever ask her to change what she preferred but did wish that they could spice things up every so often. She was a beautiful woman, beautiful in many ways that weren't purely physically as well. But in _these_ heated moments… touching, tasting, Wally's fingers dusted with those _lickable_ freckles digging and scraping into the skin on the back of Barry's neck from an overload of _pleasure_ … the teenager knew how to give him a challenge, and how to match dynamics.

Very few moments in existence had Barry considered losing a sense of control to be positive. _Control_ was important.

Being with Wally— _to lose that control fantastically_ — threw any doubt out the proverbial window.

"Un—c— _nnnghh_..." Wally gasps, and he keens helplessly against Barry's large palm pressing suddenly to his open mouth.

Wally's tongue sweeps against the shower-wet skin. God. Wally's legs tremble flexing, the squeak of feet slipping on the surface of the wall as Barry seats himself fully into his partner, running his teeth across a white shoulder and sipping the droplets of sweat building, and _slams_ a new thrust into Wally. The boy won't last at this rate. He's too young and too _eager_ and Barry _can't_ help it when his nephew stifles a long cry, when Wally's legs are cupped, lifting from the wall under Barry's hands and folding to his chest.

He won't last.

 

{~}

 

Wally's eyelashes flutter together, nearly invisible and delicate.

"When is Aunt Iris coming home?" he murmurs drowsily, clean-smelling forehead tapping into Barry's chest dappled with fine gold hairs.

"Not until tomorrow. She's got a big criminal story to cover out of state, and as they say, there ain't no rest for the wicked, kid," Barry replies, propping his chin up with one hand on the guest bed's pillows. He gazes down attentively at the red-haired teenager— _his godchild, his Kid Flash, his no-nonsense lover_ — curled up to him. "Get some shut-eye. You got a lot of training done today."

" ' _Training_ …' "

Barry pinches Wally's naked side under the covers at the statement and hissing laugh that follows, smiling when Wally squirms, the fabric of their boxers rustling each other. "Be quiet." One of Wally's emerald-colored eyes peeks open furtively to stare up at him.

"You're getting better about drawing kinetic energy from larger objects. And your specialization with vortices is getting stronger through practice."

"You're actually singing me praises, Uncle Barry?" Wally says with mock-astonishment.

"When they are well-deserved. They're rare _,_ I know."

Barry laughs when one of the pillows is shoved into his face and wrestles the teenager onto his back, holding down his wrists. "I _am_ proud of you, Wally," Barry points out. Wally bucks underneath him silently, still with that furtive look, and slowly brushes his erection through his polka-dotted boxers against Barry's half-formed.

He is a _view_ ; restrained; panting; flushing.

A husky whisper sounds in Barry's ears. "…Do I get a prize for being an outstanding student to your mentorship?"

"I think you may need to put that mouth of yours to better use." At the mild, low growl from the man, Wally's lips curl up.

Something gone very, _very_ right.

 

{~}

**Author's Note:**

> Request from xOHikaruOx on FFN.


End file.
